Loyalty
by justonelastchapter
Summary: Hufflepuff's cup is worth absolutely everything yet nothing at all. He's changed masters and mistresses so many times over the ages but he never forgot the original. Loyalty was gold and he was nothing short of so. Though, he had been missing for so long, no one had noticed his death. Then again, he was inanimate.


**A/N: written for...**

**Appleby Arrows: Chaser 2: Magenta(color) Jack and Jill(poam) critters(word)**

**Redwood: A wand with a reputation for bringing good fortune to its owner, but the wood is not itself lucky, but rather redwood wands tend to favour those who already have a natural ability to fall on their feet. Write about someone using Felix Felicis. Alt: write about a very naturally lucky (or unlucky) character**

**Dolphin: Kindness and play. Write about a child. Alt, write about Helga Hufflepuff.**

**O.W.L.s:**

**Floo - Write about someone making a journey**

* * *

_Jack and Jill went up the hill_

_To fetch a pail of water._

_Jack fell down and broke his crown,_

_And Jill came tumbling after._

* * *

It was beautiful. Gilded with gold it once sat upon the highest table in Hogwarts.

It's mistress was kind. She had the most beautiful eyes that gleamed with power. The cup was proud. He belonged to the most powerful witch. He was better than a locket or tiara. He held substance unlike the sword.

He was hers.

Joining her as he held only the finest wine to toast the new school year, it was idyllic.

Then there was a whiteness. A term of longing. An ache that never seemed to vanish. It was all because of the man.

The man broke into her room at a lowly inn, desperate for anything to keep his suffering family afloat.

Noble reasons but evil deeds.

Helga Hufflepuff had only meant to get a quick rest before continuing her travel. She'd over exerted herself in her eagerness to see her sister in the north. One week exactly ago, Helga Hufflepuff had received a letter.

Her sister was to celebrate her eldest son's seventeenth birthday. Such a occasion indeed. Helga had excitedly counted down the days till the end of term and sent an owl back with her reply.

Thus, she'd forgotten the protection spells that had become routine. Muggle repelling and the like, but instead Helga, did a horrible thing.

She fell asleep. Perfectly human. Perfectly ordinary. Devestating for such an accomplished witch.

In which the man picked the lock on her door. One which he'd chosen out of the many others randomly.

He spotted and stowed the goblet in his pants. He hadn't expected such a find but the woman sleeping alarmed him further.

She was a witch and Harvey Gordy couldn't deal with a witch out for vengeance on his hands. The plan was to go in, loot the resident and hit a couple more rooms if he had time. Helga Hufflepuff was not part of the plan. She was an unexpected variable and needed to be eliminated.

A quick cut to the throat and she breathed no more. Harvey escaped as fast as he could.

He was a thief and a murderer as of that night.

Helga Hufflepuff would never make it to the revelry taking place only two days later.

Trading in the cup in for bags of coin, he tried to forget the sleeping figure of the woman. He couldn't.

Harvey evaded his wife's queries, his daughter's pointed look, and his starved son's questioning glaze. None asked him outright though. What ever crime was committed didn't concern them.

It however, concerned the man and more importantly, the cup.

The cup traveled frequently from then on. The men who had traded the coin found that they couldn't melt the cup. Gold is gold but a small cup is useless. So from then, he was filled with cheep wines, if he was lucky, they'd remember to wash him.

Hufflepuff's Cup spent his days for the next hundred years frequenting open markets, once most improperly used as a book support. People paid less for him, they didn't know his worth. They only saw his beauty. Small critters engraved on his handles and a badger proud on the body with and emerald eye, they saw it's impracticality.

For most, it seemed to good to be true. The small cup couldn't be gold-it had to be fake.

Though, a day would come when one would finally realize his worth. This day seemed like a fantasy until a pair of spindly hands picked him up from his wallow in a broken down cart.

"Oh Hokey! Bring that here!" A shrill voice cried and he was passed along From one hand to another.

The next pair or hands were pudgy and bloated. The woman to which the voice and hands belonged giggled happily. This woman was Hepzibah Smith who would later claim to be related to his first mistress.

She had cream ruffles on her long hoop skirted dress. Rouge was smeared over her face accompanied by an all too obvious fake ginger wig.

The wig in question, swayed and wobbled. The tall tires of hair weren't immune to the ground shaking jumps of it's owner as she clapped and squealed. Handing over a sack of galleons, Hepzibah was giddly with excitement.

Five years would pass of a dreary existence.

At least with some of the family's he'd been possessed by, he'd get to watch the hustle and bustle of everyday life. The five years were however bland.

Days mixed into months.

The highlight of the year was when Hokey would break out the rags and polish to clean him. Other than that, he just sat in a display case watching as more cases and antiques were added to Hepzibah's collection.

The cup stood stoic, unmoving, of course, as a man entered.

He was different from the thief but not by much. A Thief was still a thief.

He looked happy with a small smile on his face. Though there was something wrong with the humble look that seemed to gleam on his undisrepuredly handsome features.

That man left a thief and a murderer too that night.

But different from Harvey Gordy, he didn't regret anything.

Different from Harvey, Tom Marvolo Riddle was already a murderer.

Different from Harvey, Tom Marvolo Riddle's reasons were entirely selfish.

Different from Harvey, Tom Marvolo Riddle would keep the cup.

Hufflepuff's cup, like Harvey, would leave that night of thievery with a burden to great to bare.

He, Hufflepuff's cup, once proud, once loyal, was swayed and created into a monstrosity. Oh, how Helga would have wept over her long time companions transition.

Only decades later would relief finally come. A boy and a girl, plunging a basilisk fang into his center.

What an extraordinary ending for an atypical object. However, death felt like death. There was no difference.

Hufflepuff's Cup, his theoretical head held high, descended to the clouds. Finally rejoining his first and only mistress.


End file.
